


Changes; A Horror Fic

by Winchester007



Category: Friday the 13th Series (Movies), Friday the 13th: The Series, My Bloody Valentine (2009), Nightmare on Elm Street (1984), Nightmare on Elm Street (2010)
Genre: M/M, Mild Gore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-15
Updated: 2012-10-15
Packaged: 2017-11-16 08:27:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/537477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Winchester007/pseuds/Winchester007





	Changes; A Horror Fic

Tom Hanniger was a decently happy man. He had his guns and his knives and his favorite tool, the axe. He never really needed anyone or anything to tell him he was right or wrong or if he needed to do this or had to have that. He was his own boss and it had been like that for several years after he evaded being arrested in his home town. He enjoyed his life and but sometimes… and only when he really sat and thought… he felt lonely. Which led to hunting.

Now you may see the word hunting and think about bears or deer or even duck for that matter. Oh no. That is not what Tom enjoyed at all. He liked game with a little more kick to it. He hunted humans. Going to teen’s little parties in the woods or catching the occasional couple making out, that was his game. He watched, of course, while the couples fucked themselves into a comatose state, their bodies lax and worn out just enough so he could get close enough to chop a few pieces off. Sometimes he would keep them alive long enough to play, to drag the good looking ones back to his cabin and have a little fun with them before slitting their throat and watching them choke on blood.

Sometimes that wasn’t enough though. Sometimes he wanted more. Which is where the tall kid in front of him came in. Which is why he was still alive.

His name, which he gathered by taking his license from his wallet, was Clay Miller. He was apparently in his twenties and came from a small town because he had never heard of the place. He looked absolutely… no… he was not going to let himself get too attached to this man. He was going to use him, kill him and find another toy. That’s how he lived his life. It’s how he—

“Nggh…” came a small groan from Clay, who had been passed out for a few hours. It was about damn time the kid woke up. He was sick and tired of waiting for him to be awake enough to toy with. “Finally deciding to join the living, kid?” Tom asked him in a sickly rough tone, his devilish smirk growing bigger as he made his way across the room to the taller man. 

“Mmn… w-where… where m’I?” Clay asked, his voice hoarse and low from dryness and the amount of screaming he had done when Tom had grabbed him up from the road. Of course he was a little rough with his new toy, tossing him around for no apparent reason, ‘accidentally’ hitting the giant guy’s head on the door frame and then there was dropping him on the gravel outside. He had to admit it was kind of funny when he bought him inside and had to clean him up. The amount of gravel in the guys mouth was hilarious. 

“It was ladies night and I grabbed the wrong gender.” Tom chuckles darkly, eyeing Clay with a mixture of lust and excitement in his expression. He couldn’t wait to play… though he knew he had to wait. Wait until just the right time. Right when the kid wasn’t expecting it. Maybe he could even get the moron to trust him a little. “You should think about a hair cut next time.” he tells him in a teasing tone, a tone he hadn’t used since he had to leave Sar— no, he wouldn’t think of her anymore. Not right now, not ever. He shook his head and leaned down just a bit, cupping the side of Clay’s neck, thumb hooked under his chin as he tilted his head up just a little. “You’re pretty cute though so I guess I’ll keep you around.”

“L-lad— what? I don’t…” Clay stammers, clearly confused and not understanding. He was strapped tightly to a chair and a… ruggedly handsome psychotic man was standing in front of him telling him he’s cute. What the hell was going on… and where the hell was his bike… 

“Don’t hurt yourself kid, I wanna do that.” Tom smirks at him before removing his hand and turning to the counter behind him. They were in the kitchen, blood covering the floor since this is the room where he ‘played’ most with new toys. With a tiny grin, he grabbed a dagger, a tiny one that he knew wouldn’t hurt much. When he turned back around, his body froze. The tied up man was staring at him, his eyes wide with tears rolling down his flush cheeks. He’s seen people cry before, seen them beg and bargain for their life but… none of them like this. This man… he was too… too beautiful. He was stunning and he… he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t move. 

“P-please… I… I don’t know w-what I did but I’m s-sorry. I’m so-sorry… pl-please don’t do this…” Clay begged, his voice catching in his throat after a moment. He knew this was it, knew he was going to die and there was nothing he could do but beg the man. He was free, he thought. He thought he had lived out his one and only near death experience but he was wrong. He was usually wrong. He thought his sister was going to stay with him, keep him company and not leave as soon as she met a guy but he was wrong about that too.

Tom stood, listening to the man and actually feeling bad, his chest tightening with remorse as he stared. “I…” he swallowed, moving closer to Clay before setting the dagger to the side, on the table next to them, then cupped Clay’s cheek. “I’m not going to hurt you. You have to… you have to be good though. Tell me you’ll be good and I wont hurt you.” Tom told him, his voice sincere but stern.

Clay looked into the green irises, unsure whether he could believe the man or not. He wanted to, god did he want to believe he could walk away from all of this without a scratch, but nothing ever worked like that for him. Nothing ever went right when he needed it to. “O-okay. Anything… I’ll d-do anything.” he finally told the man, nodding slowly enough to keep the other’s hand in place. 

Tom smiled and patted his cheek, moving away slowly. “Good. That’s a good boy. I think you an I will get along fine.” he told him, his voice a little less cynical than it had been previously. He still couldn’t believe a pair of eye got the best of him, that he let a pair of eyes get the best of him. He was disappointed in himself to that degree anyways.

————————————————————————

After so long, Clay started getting restless, started asking to get the restraints removed and to be able to go to the bathroom on his own. Tom didn’t like it. Didn’t like how he was actually thinking about giving him those things he was asking for. He was supposed to be dead by now. It had been three days and he hadn’t touched him yet. Hadn’t cut him or fucked him or even… he hadn’t even killed anything in front of him yet. Hadn’t killed anything at all since he bought him to his cabin. He was tired of waiting. 

“Tom? Tom, I have to use the bathroom…” Clay murmured from his chair in the kitchen, the serial killer tightening his jaw and turning around from sharpening a dagger. “Then piss in the damn chair.” he told the taller man, a glare resting in his eyes. “Why can’t you just trust that I wont run? You haven’t done anything to hurt me. I wont take off.” Clay promised. 

Tom let out an annoyed grumble, trying his hardest to beat back that instinct to just slash the annoying kid’s throat and let him bleed out on the kitchen floor like he had with so many. He couldn’t do that though. He wouldn’t. Clay made him want to change, to push his blood thirst down so far that he never felt Harry or his needs again. He hated Harry, hated him with a passion and he wanted to find a way to keep him away, to drown him out and be able to be human again, to be the man Sarah fell in love with. He needed to be that man. “Fine.” he finally voiced in a small tone, nearing Clay and rounding to squat in back of him to untie the knot he had around his wrists. 

As soon as his hands were free, Clay bought them around and rubbed his wrists and shook his hands out a little, arms stiff and sore. “I wont run…” he repeats, watching as Tom untied his ankles from the legs of the chair. Tom looked up at him, his expression oddly trusting. “I have a good aim and a collection of my dad’s guns if you decide to get smart.” the killer told him though he didn’t mean a word of it. 

Clay stood up once he was able to and slumped his shoulders, nodding before moving past Tom and to the bathroom. Once he was in the bathroom, he shut the door, keeping it unlocked as a sort of assurance to Tom, then tugged his jeans down and sat himself on the toilet. He hadn’t actually been able to… go… while Tom watched so this was his chance. 

When he was done, Clay flushed and stood, pulling his pants back up and moving to wash his hands, finding himself thinking of Tom. How the man seemed to be kind of troubled more than just a psychotic mess. He could help him, be there for him, they could be there for each other. It sort of hit him hard just thinking about it, a heat rising in his stomach as he let out a soft noise, his member twitching in interest as he stood and looked at himself in the mirror.

Tom waited for the man in the kitchen, nervous and pacing back and forth. He thought about Clay running, about how he’d be left alone again and how he would just end up giving into Harry again and turning into the monster he hated. He slammed a fist onto the counter as he thought of these things then looked up at the clock. It had been fifteen minutes and Clay was still in the bathroom. What if he ran… what if he took advantage of the tiny bit of trust he let himself find in him… he had to find out.

Clay was still in the bathroom when Tom slammed the door open, a flush going to his cheeks along with Tom’s. His hand was around his cock and as Tom stared at him, he came. Harder than he had in a long time. He swallowed and wiped his hand on his jeans before moving to tuck himself away quickly, muttering apologies to the serial killer with shaky fear in his voice. He didn’t quite get himself completely put away before Tom was striding across the room and shoving him against the wall, smashing their mouths together desperately and taking Clay’s cock into his hand, pumping slowly to get him erect again, which didn’t take long. Clay was more than willing to comply with the kiss, pressing back, nipping and licking as Tom kissed him bruisingly hard, ran his rough hand over his sensitive cock which left him groaning into Tom’s mouth lowly. 

Tom felt himself grow painfully hard inside of his jeans as he kissed Clay, as he worked his hand over the other’s cock. He needed more, needed to be inside. “Turn around.” he ordered, his voice needy and filled with lust as Clay turned, his jeans falling to his ankles as he presented himself to Tom. “Nnh… p-please… please, Tom.” Clay panted, moaning and rocking back for Tom who was more than ready to comply, planting a firm smack on Clay’s plump ass then undoing his own jeans, rubbing the tip of his dripping cock against Clay’s tight hole, slipping in after a moment and gaining a loud moan from the man on the other end of his cock. 

Clay rolled his hips back, his breath catching in his throat as Tom pushed in his hard member completely, making him feel so incredibly full. When Tom started moving, it was slow at first, the thrusts picking up in speed until it was a casual pace, lips planting kisses along Clay’s shoulders as he tipped his head forward and moved a hand to grip his cock again, stroking in time with Tom’s thrusts which began to get faster and harder until he felt the arousal in his stomach give in, his cock spewing come over the wall in front of him just before Tom spilled his load inside of him with a loud groan and a few choice curses. 

Coming down was more than relaxing, both of them wanting nothing more than each other, no sign of Harry’s lust for gore or pain anywhere in Tom’s mind or body and no sign of loneliness from Clay. When Tom pulled himself out, he made a soft noise and turned Clay around gently, hand moving to cup the taller man’s cheek. “Tell me I can keep you…” he whispered, their eyes meeting as Clay nodded and leaned forward just a bit to deliver a small kiss to Tom’s lips. “Yours.” he promised against Tom’s lips with a soft smile.

——————————————————————————

Eight years and several states over, Tom and Clay finally settled comfortably. Their lives beginning to come together perfectly and their love stronger than ever. They were happy. Something neither of them expected yet always desperately wished for. Tom changed his name to Tom Jesse Miller, a little joke between the two of them about how they acted like an old married couple, and Clay told his friends he was being transferred from one school to another though they all knew it was nothing but a lie.

What they didn’t expect was the visitor that came during the night. The one person no one really expected to come but always did. They were both fast asleep and holding onto one another, limbs wrapped perfectly together like a puzzle when he came. 

His voice was deep and his smile haunting, skin burned badly and it gave them both chills when he spoke. “Welcome to my world, bitch.”


End file.
